Chapter Forty-Five: The True Demon King Liu

On the walls of the main hall, the Myriad Dragons Mural was so lifelike that it seemed as though the dragons might, at any moment, soar out from the clouds and mist. Dragons large and small danced through billowing vapors, their scales shimmering with a faint glow. On the wall directly ahead, a flawless white Yinglong coiled in great rings, its enormous head extending beyond the wall to rest upon the floor. Upon this dragon's head was the seat of Bai Yujing.

As soon as Yao Wenhao, responsible for filming, entered the hall, he immediately aimed his camera down at the ground. Filming anyone’s face was strictly forbidden unless the sect master had given explicit consent; otherwise, he dared not be reckless.

Seated high above, Bai Yujing looked down at the outlandishly dressed Wrestler Superman and inquired with curiosity, “What brings you to Qingyun Sect?”

“Hello, nice to meet you. I’m a Douyin influencer with a million followers, known as Wrestler Superman. I enjoy sparring with others, and I heard that your sect’s Miss Liu—” He paused, nearly blurting out her infamous nickname before catching himself just in time and correcting, “Miss Liu Shuangling is an eighth-tier Spirit Master. I’d like to exchange some combat experience with her.”

Upon hearing this, Tia, waiting in the tearoom, realized there was no need to serve the tea she had prepared. Pushing back a strand of golden hair, she remarked with a hint of sarcasm, “Who would have thought the first challenger to show up would be you?”

“The unknowns of fate are always captivating,” he replied.

“I don’t see anything captivating about unpredictable fate,” Tia retorted, her beautiful face full of disdain. She valued control above all, had no use for surprises or the unexpected, and even found such things highly objectionable.

“Shuangling, someone wishes to spar with you. What are your thoughts?” Bai Yujing’s voice echoed from the hall. Liu Shuangling didn’t linger in the tearoom but instead pushed open the door and entered the hall. Her fair, elegant face bore a gentle smile. “I have no objections,” she replied.

She’s stunning, thought Yao Wenhao in surprise, noting she was even more beautiful in person than on video. No wonder she had so many admirers online—even he felt tempted to switch allegiances and cheer for her.

Behind his mask, Wrestler Superman’s expression grew grave. He couldn’t gauge Liu Shuangling’s spiritual pressure at all, which meant she was highly skilled at concealing it—likely seventh-tier, perhaps even approaching eighth. That was the upper limit he could imagine for her. An astonishing talent indeed.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, cupping his fists in greeting.

Meanwhile, the livestream chat erupted with speculation and wagers about how long Liu Shuangling could last. “I bet a bag of spicy strips she won’t last three minutes!” “You guys know nothing! She’s a genius among geniuses!” “Wrestler Superman is an eighth-tier gatekeeper—no matter how good Liu Shuangling is, she’s just seventh-tier, right?”

Although the viewers playfully called Wrestler Superman an “eighth-tier gatekeeper,” they still respected his strength. In his livestreams, he’d had twenty-five matches against others of the same rank, winning thirteen and drawing twice. After all, Wrestler Superman hailed from the illustrious Myriad Beasts Sect of Shanghai and practiced the Mighty Bear Shakes the Heavens Fist—a style famed for its raw power and resilience.

He’d often delivered bone-crunching, visceral battles for his audience, which was why his follower count had soared past a million.

…

Leaving the main hall, Yao Wenhao, with Bai Yujing’s permission, turned his camera to capture the scenery of Qingyun Sect. On the massive cliff, three human faces were carved, prompting viewers to joke that it looked like Mount Rushmore. Next came the bluestone plaza, a nine-story scripture pavilion, and a rectangular training ground—each frame as breathtaking as a meticulously crafted wallpaper.

“This isn’t right—wasn’t Qingyun supposed to be a small sect?” “Yeah, even the Purple Cloud Sword Sect isn’t this grand!” “Agreed.” “But there are so few people here.” “Well, that’s because they don’t accept riffraff.”

As the chat buzzed, the group pushed open a large door inscribed with the character for Martial, revealing a series of rooms to Wrestler Superman. Bai Yujing opened the nearest door. “You may spar here.”

“Very well,” Wrestler Superman replied, stepping into the spacious training chamber.

More spatial inscriptions! he couldn’t help but think. Does Qingyun Sect buy them wholesale? He prided himself on his experience, but he had never seen a sect so extensively employ spatial scriptures. Every room seemed to be expanded by them. The materials needed to withstand such spiritual pressure must be incredibly costly, and the energy required to maintain these inscriptions was beyond his imagination.

Maybe the viewers weren’t exaggerating after all, he mused.

Liu Shuangling stood a hundred meters ahead. Bai Yujing, acting as referee, called out, “I’ll count to three—then you may begin. One, two, three, start!”

At that instant, Wrestler Superman cast aside all distractions and entered combat mode. His feet slammed down, the floor groaning under his power. His domineering spiritual pressure surged like a storm, transforming into a formless shockwave—a tidal wave crashing toward Liu Shuangling.

Using the rebound, he shot upward like an eagle taking flight. Twisting midair, he adjusted his posture, then launched himself downward like a cannonball, bearing unstoppable momentum straight toward Liu Shuangling.

“Mountain-Shattering Blow!” an old fan excitedly typed in the chat.

This was Wrestler Superman’s signature move: first destabilize the opponent with a shockwave, then descend from above to finish the fight with overwhelming force. Nine of his thirteen victories had been clinched with this very technique.

As the shockwave rolled in, Liu Shuangling’s feet shifted lightly, her figure swaying like a willow in the wind as she deftly absorbed the impact. Wrestler Superman was already plummeting toward her, fist wreathed in violent spiritual energy, crashing down with the force of a giant bear splitting mountains—an all-destroying strike.

His punch roared through the air, compressing it to the point of shrill detonation.

Liu Shuangling’s lips curled into a slight smile. “Incantation Eighty-Six: Mirror Gate.”

In an instant, a translucent diamond-shaped barrier appeared before her. Bang! Wrestler Superman’s fist slammed into it, unleashing a deafening boom. Countless hairline cracks spread across the barrier’s surface like a spiderweb, but it held firm.

The massive rebound numbed Wrestler Superman’s arm, filling him with shock. Even the simplified version of the eighty-sixth incantation, Mirror Gate, had withstood his full-force blow! This was no ordinary eighth-tier Spirit Master’s strength.

A flash of awe crossed his eyes as he swung his left fist up for another assault. But Liu Shuangling gave him no chance. With a swift push off the ground, she shot forward like an arrow loosed from its string. Her right hand curved into claws, lunging at Wrestler Superman’s chest.

Black Tiger Steals the Heart! The move was as fast as lightning, as lethal as a viper’s strike.

A chill shot up Wrestler Superman’s spine, his danger sense screaming. Instinct took over—he leapt back, desperate to open distance.

But Liu Shuangling was faster. Her fingertips sliced through the air like blades, striking his chest with precise accuracy.

A few drops of blood splattered from his chest, blooming crimson on the floor. Gritting his teeth, Wrestler Superman staggered back a hundred meters.

Liu Shuangling landed lightly, her right fingertips now stained red. Smiling sweetly, she remarked, “Such a shallow wound—how unexpected. I thought I’d be able to take your heart.”

She uttered these cruel words in the gentlest tone, her peerless beauty making it impossible to resent her. She seemed born to stand above all, indifferent to the world below.

For a moment, the livestream chat fell silent—then exploded into a frenzy. Even through the screen, viewers could only marvel at the dark, magnetic aura she exuded.

Wrestler Superman’s heart pounded, cold sweat trickling down his face. He had truly just brushed past death. If those five holes in his chest had been any deeper, his heart would indeed be gone.

Bai Yujing, sensing that Liu Shuangling’s little prank had gone too far, tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, she was only teasing. This is a friendly bout—your life was never in danger. If she truly intended to take your heart, it would already be in her hand.”

Wrestler Superman wasn’t sure if this was meant to comfort him or mock his lack of skill. His face flushed a dark, livid red. Thankfully, his mask hid his true feelings.

Taking a deep breath, he bowed his head. “I concede. Miss Liu, your talent is truly extraordinary!”